– Dr Sameena Kausar
rakhiyo Ghãlib mujhe is talkh nawayi main muaaf
aaj kuch dard mere dil main siwa hota hai
I plead for forgiveness for the harsh words that I may utter
The pain that grips my heart is fiercely unbearable today
(Mirza Ghãlib)
Madrasas or Islamic seminaries all over South Asia, are dedicated to the Islamic education of men and women. In the beginning, these madrasas were started only for men. Slowly, a movement – a subtle insurgency began to stir to educate women with Islamic knowledge. Fueled by this yearning, the idea of creating madrasa spaces for women came to fruition. Though initially a mere trickle – women’s madrasas across India have witnessed a phenomenal five-decade surge.
What has stopped these institutions from fostering female scholars who would lead and take the lead in society? With the increase in female graduates, the quality and quantity of female leaders in Islamic scholarship must be visible. This question has troubled me for a long time. This writing is a raw expression of my agony over the years. This article may ignite some spark somewhere, and the soft rains of good times may begin to shower.
The exact date of the first women’s madrasa in India is unknown. Records suggest 1930 with Aasia Bai, but this may be inaccurate. Inaccurate – just as the belief that persists that religion is the exclusive domain of men – and women are denied proper education due to that inaccuracy of thought.
Having graduated from one of India’s most prestigious female madrasas, I possess firsthand knowledge of the curriculum and its emphasis. With some consternation, I note that the most prevailing objective within these institutions appears to be cultivating “good and obedient housewives.” This focus, while potentially valid for those who are not clear of mind, seems to restrict the potential scope of education offered to these young women.
While nurturing families is undeniably important, is it the sole purpose of women’s madrasas? Islamic teachings emphasize mutual respect, so shouldn’t these institutions empower women to explore their full potential? Though they sound rhetoric, the questions come as a riddle to those who deem themselves as the protector of religion. The call to knowledge shouldn’t be a melody reserved only for men’s ears. In these madrasas, the tintinnabulation of Islamic scholarship rings loud and clear for our brothers, but the tune seems muted for women. Is nurturing families truly all there is? They yearn to delve deeper, to have their minds set ablaze with the same fire of knowledge.
It’s time to rewrite the curriculum, not just with modern methods, but with a whole new vision. We need to ask ourselves, with a heart full of hope, what kind of human beings do we want these institutions to create?
If, after reconsidering and reexamining the objectives of these madrasas, we conclude that the foremost goal is to produce good housewives and mothers, then this goal can be achieved by teaching ‘Beheshti Zevar’ by Maulana Ashraf Ali Thanavi and many other books written by scholars of Islamic Sciences. In such a case, the need for these establishments diminishes. Part-time classes on a small scale in Muslim localities will suffice for this goal.
On the other hand, if we feel a need for female intellectual leadership, with a realization that this gap and lack of female scholars of authority in the Muslim society is the cause of multiple problems in our society, then we should work towards this gap to fulfil. Then, revamping the curriculum is necessary. Revisiting and updating the curriculum is easier said than done. But even after acknowledging and realizing the difficulties and obstacles in this journey, this curriculum imbalance must not wait any longer. It’s time we make this change a top priority. The issue of religious authority and knowledge directly relates to the curriculum.
Women are assumed to be incapable of understanding and learning the quantum of the syllabus that men study. Therefore, we see a vast difference between the quantum of the syllabus taught in men’s and women’s madrasas. As mentioned, the syllabus taught in most female madrasas is a stripped-down version of the syllabus of male madrasas. The male founders of women’s madrasas ignore the fact that women, too, need to be exposed to intellectual excellence and the rich historical traditions of Islamic thought. Supposedly, women are intellectually inferior and can’t grasp the quantum of material taught to men. We, women, belong to the tradition of Hazrat Ayesha. I would not dare to write this down if Hazrat Ayesha were not my mother. And role model. Her strong and dominant position in Islamic Sciences, genius, determination, and love for knowledge encourages us to express our pain and put our case to the stakeholders and leaders. We need to be heard; if we are not heard and remedied now, any remedy for our pain will be too late anytime in future.
A single step in updating and upgrading the curriculum will elevate the level of Islamic literacy among women, create a new cadre of female religious authorities, and end their dependence on male authority in matters of Islamic thought. Again, I would like to clarify that reliance on each other, exchange in religious or social issues, and consulting are not wrong.
The dependence hurts when fingers are raised on Muslim women and their rights, situation, and condition; they are looked at with pity like oppressed ones, and woman scholars don’t come forward. They wish to speak up, but sometimes the obstacle is language, and sometimes they lack skills. Debates are held, but scholarly articles and dialogues don’t appear to counter the academia.
In a world and as followers of a religion where equality and justice are cherished ideals, equality in learning standards in female madrasas must be addressed. If this deficit in women’s knowledge of Islam is not addressed, women’s issues, from family matters to their public role in society, will remain subject to solutions and proposals that do not remedy women’s needs. Deep knowledge of theological and philosophical discourses of the Islamic tradition and proficiency in the languages taught are prerequisites for serious religious scholarship among women to emerge and handle their issues independently.
As a result of this lack of female leadership, the various informal Sharia courts (Darul Qazas) in India are controlled by men. It means that the staff in these Sharia houses are all male. It’s concerning that the current structure of Sharia courts lacks female representation. This is a significant cause stopping many women from consulting these courts or getting help from them. Naturally, a woman is more comfortable sharing her problems with a female judge (Qaziyah) than a male one. Sometimes, you need someone who understands what you’re going through. Talking to a male judge, even in court, can feel intimidating. It’s no wonder so many women stay silent, their issues unresolved. This requires specialized and trained scholars with deep knowledge of Islam and exposure to current global issues and scenarios. This qualification requires them to be fluent in English at an academic level so that they can express themselves and put their side of opinion on national and international platforms. These trained and qualified women will also be able to issue a fatwa (Islamic legal opinion).
Some women’s madrasas have recently started offering courses for women to specialize in Islamic law. These women become muftiyaat, which is a welcome sign. Yet we know little about whether they are consulted. If yes, then more such steps have to be taken.
Marieke Winkelman, a German scholar who studied women’s madrasas, proposed the establishment of a central regulatory authority to control irregularities and discrepancies in the syllabus of women’s madrasas. Furthering Winkelman’s proposal, I request madrasa authorities to work on such a regulatory body that controls and works towards developing a fresh, modern, and updated curriculum for women’s madrasas. It should be deeply rooted in tradition but with a dash of modernity in it.
Universities offer programs in Islamic Studies and Arabic, but there’s a glaring imbalance: a tiny fraction of women compared to men. This lopsided ratio applies to both students and teachers – think just 1 woman for every 10 men! This lack of female representation is a major hurdle. Imagine trying to learn in a field where you see few role models who look like you. It’s no wonder some women, even if interested, might feel discouraged and eventually drop out. To make things tougher, some classes are entirely in Arabic, adding another layer of difficulty. Here I pause – and this question I raise: Do these graduates produce scholarly material in Urdu, the mother tongue of most of them?
What I am sharing stems from my experience as a madrasa graduate and my experience as a teacher in an Arabic department at a university. Most students I teach are from madrasas, where only boys study; only some women have such a background. In my case, only after leaving the madrasa did I realize the deficits of these institutions. Indeed, I am indebted to my institution for enriching me with a love for my religion, knowledge, and so much more that cannot be expressed in words. It was a spiritual journey. The time has come when we accept the mistakes we made in the past open-heartedly and take the criticism from everyone as a construction point for our madrasas.
If women receive a high-quality education, I do not doubt that Indian Muslims will produce women of the calibre of Dr Suad al Hakeem of Syria, and Dr Ayesha Abdul Rahman, better known as Bint al Shati from Egypt. Women and men must be exposed to women’s writings, which should be integrated into the syllabi at universities and madrasas in the Arabic and Islamic Studies syllabi. The Arabic literature and the History of Arabic literature subjects, for example, in the Universities, contain male personalities of Arabic, as if the rich tradition of Arabic literature could not produce any women who could be studied. One or two women like al Khansāʾ R.A. are prescribed to fill the gap. The blank canvases of young minds paint Arabic literature as a male-only domain. The spark of inspiration cannot be ignited through such a syllabus. This, too, needs attention.
In his famous poem “An Elegy Written in the Churchyard”, Thomas Gray wonders if there had been any natural poets or politicians whose talent had never been discovered or nurtured among the lowly people buried in the churchyard. Similarly, I often wonder if there had been great writers, poets, novelists, and scholars whose talents have never been discovered outside the four walls of the madrasa.
[The writer is Assistant Professor, Department of Arabic, School of Languages, Linguistics and Indology, Maulana Azad National Urdu University, Gachibowli, Hyderabad. Email: drsamtabish@gmail.com]
